Stairs
by clexausic
Summary: Looking up, one decides their purpose is leading people to high places, so they can achieve an upper, brighter ground. That's what makes them so easy yet difficult to like – it's hard, but climbing stairs deserves an award.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **I'm giggling madly now, it's... _kindasorta _my first fic! Enjoy, I had a lot of inspirations for this, it was very fun to idealize a plot and write.

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><p>Chap.1:<p>

»`This is called _Stair_ _Climbing´«_

_`»0«´_

Maka bolted up the enormous flight of stairs with ease, puffing even and regular breath patterns along the way. It was a daily work out; running up and down DWMA's stairway has become such a habit that it no longer pained her body. She still remembered her first time and the hardness that her mind took into fulfilling the task of walking up and down such a mass amount of steps every day.

Though times back then… But past is past and she has changed. Since the time Maka first laid eyes on Shibusen she got a new quantity of knowledge, emended mistakes, arranged a partner and got considered as one of the best students among the Academy.

Hardly breaking a sweat, the ash-blond girl jumped in contentment as she, once more, reached the end of her daily exercise. She pumped one fist in the air, stretched her body and muttered a quiet thank you at the skies for the lovely weather assaulting Death City. "Ha ~" She moaned before planting her hands on her hips and smiling at nowhere in special. "Another jog well done!" She giggled.

Turning around she gazed at the marvelous sight that spread before her. Twisted, mended houses greeted her with their unique architecture (that for some reason unknown reminded the blond of a certain doctor/professor, very fond of stitches and sutures) and unique colors. Below her stood Death City, not quite the city of the dead but guarded by none other than Death himself.

A loud yawn made its way to her ears and the girl lowered her head a few centimeters, noticing for the first time this morning that her partner wasn't by her side as usual. She twisted her neck a little more and spotted a blob of whiteness moving up the stairs. Soul's hair was whiter than the dull-colored steps which had a beige tone to add from years of use. His black jacket also stood well under the light.

"_Haaaaaa~~_" Maka heard him yawn in the distance and with a scowl crossed her arms. Why the lazy bum! It's already eight in the morning and he's still acting like he's just woken up – even though the scythe meister made him walk to class today because the day was sunny, he was still lazy as always and dragging his feet with more effort than his meister.

When Soul finally reached the top and walked hunched by her side, she grunted. "Took you long enough."

Soul however, stood unfazed and yawned once again. "No need to bark Maka, I'm already here ain't I?"

"Yeah but if you keep rubbing the ground with every step then next thing you know you'll have the whole school whipped clean." She groaned. "Oh my, what heavy feet you have…"

The young weapon glanced up between messy bangs and watery eyelids, interrupting another yawn in favor of looking at his meister who appeared really annoyed by something that escaped him. And apparently that wasn't the only thing that his mind failed to notice in time, because seconds later he realized that for a moment there, Maka actually cracked a joke. "Funny today, aren't we?"

The blond puffed her chest indignantly and walked away with a sour mood but cheery footing, contradicting even his mind that by now should know all the surprises of the young Albarn. Sighing, he followed the girl with a growing dread inside, knowing that once he set foot inside the walls of Shibusen, class would be his next assignment and even though he tried, still remained mentally unprepared for such a routine.

His thoughts were cut short when his face bumped into something soft yet tough, making the nape of his nose send a jolt of slight pain to his brain. "What the-" Even in the disarray that was Soul's mind during the morning, he dropped the rest of the sentence for the sake of his meister, who shouldn't be far away and after hearing would punish his scalp from 'lack of manners in public'.

Soul's disorder also told him that his meister was the 'thing' he not-so-graciously bumped into.

"… Maka?" He finally muttered out. It was a strange sight – her back was turned to him and her head was pointing towards the top of the building as if she spotted something interesting, but no matter how many times he glanced up the same weird sight met his bloody irises: humongous lit candles and a big set of cartooned skulls mixed with walls painted red and black. In short, Death Weapon and Meister Academy. "Got a glimpse of Black Star or somethin'?"

Just for measure he tapped her shoulder and blinked at her blank face once she faced him. Her eyes were filled with concern, but her lips, her lashes, her cheeks were dull, coldly forced into a stone. And he didn't like it one bit.

"Is something wrong?" In an unconscious movement, Soul rubbed the left side of his face, expecting to sense some kind of anomaly lying on his skin. A certain magical cat once thought it was funny to transform his face into one of a clown; he came to the Academy with layers of make-up and didn't notice a thing until Maka, who oh so conveniently slept the night at Tsubaki's, pointed the obvious when he reached his seat. So uncool.

Maka shook her head, suddenly looking down to her feet. "Do you feel fine? Don't you want to make a quick check-up at the Infirmary before class? We still have time."

Blinking, the demon scythe furrowed his eyebrows and looked at the old-looking clock perked up above the main entrance. "Huh… you're joking right? The bell's gonna ring in about five minutes or so." Maybe he's exaggerating, but their little walk this morning cost them a good time and he knows how Maka likes to make her presence known quite early in the morning.

This time the technician fidgeted, playing with her thumbs as she talked. "It doesn't matter, I ju-"

Doesn't _matter_? "Who are you and what have you done to my meister?"

"MAKA-CHOP!"

He howled in pain but what good would that bring besides uncoolness? As Soul sat on the ground clutching his head for dear-life, the faint image of a very pissed off Maka hovered over him with a novel stashed under her arm and a scowl pasted on her face. So it was a surprise when a hand suddenly appeared out of nowhere and presented itself in front of his face. Imagine his confusion when he noted that the hand was gloved, and had the initials 'M.A.' graved above her pulse.

What was the matter with her? She wants to take him to the Infirmary but hurts his brain with literature right after offering to walk with him there. And now she's helping him get up. Swearing a huge amount of silent blasphemies that would have made Black Star proud, Soul cracked his neck. "I do _not _understand girls." And this special, flat-chested, bookworm was getting especially on his nerves today.

Temperamental much? 'Cause first she was beaming, then she was annoyed, then sad, nervous, angry and finally, she was helping him stand up after dropping a chop. Hey, she was the one who started!

But her soft voice didn't help him at all. It made him feel giddy with a sudden beat that his central muscle just missed. Her tone was so calm and adorable that for a moment the scythe forgot that in front of him could be standing the next generation of unpredictable soldiers, ready to explode like unbalanced volcanoes at any moment. "Sorry about that."

The weapon stared. Stared at her glove, stared at her hand, stared at her fingers, he stared. What more could he do? Should he be fuming? Should he be mad? 'Cause he was. Soul Eater was mad with mostly three things.

One: He had been worried for her behavior in vain. If he had known that it was going to be one of her mood-swings again he never would have bothered asking her or lowering down to a position where his cool façade wore off and showed fear for her well-being.

Two: Maka had literally forced heavy literature into his head and that didn't do wonders – it never did. She hit him for being concerned and even so, after that she kneeled in front of his being and offered help like nothing had happened between them, like nothing had _changed_.

Three: Her hand was _covered_ by white fabric – a fact that irritated him above nothing else.

Grunting, Soul decided to lift from the ground on his own, without the help of a moody Maka that could pull another fast one in less than a second if he was to step too close. He dusted his pants with his palms, forced on his best annoyed glare and prepared to leave her side.

But he couldn't do it. He tried, but he just couldn't.

He reminded his morning-lazy brain that there was a fourth fact in his personal list for today's anomalies-that-weren't-so-abnormal. Maka's eyes shine with green fire, calmed down to a warm blaze with bits of guilt that send her off to her thoughts, like now. She was over-thinking again, such a cute display, and even though he will never admit it the sight bothered his soul to no end.

Because Soul knows that it doesn't matter if his partner decides to smack him a million times during one day (he thinks he's a masoquist, oh well), he will always follow her music.

Because no matter how many changes her mood would take he wouldn't mind, he once made an effort to cope with the girl but that isn't needed anymore. When her eyes told stories that mimicked her thoughts and worries, he got lost, and no one would ever find him again until her musical voice awakens him from the day-dream he fell into.

Soul can never be mad at Maka because she could always turn him, spin him around like a little toy with her petite, feathery hands. In those few seconds before the ring of the bells, his eyes were set on her and he didn't leave, dare he say because he felt _attracted_.

So uncool. So utterly, stupidly, idioticly un_cool_.

"L-Let's get going then." Her heart-shaped face turned sideways, her plushy lashes bated rhythmically like wings of a grand, black raven. When her back faced him, he fought against his brain and commanded his feet to make a move, or else he would look like an idiot standing by the front gates, like a moron staring at the place where his light once was.

The weapon grunted and rubbed his forehead, watching Maka climb the last three steps before entering the building. He could stop her now you know. Soul could raise his arms and cup her wrist between rough pianist fingers and make her answer right here and now why the hell she is making him pass for such a hard time-

-but her swan-like neck greeted him from between twin pigtails, with creamy skin and unspoken, seductive calling.

"This situation," he hid his eyes under cotton bangs of hair, forcing the heat that had lifted up his cheeks down his chest again. "isn't cool at all."

_Inside the corners of his mind, where a room __**(a BLACK and RED room)**__ glowed between darkness and shadows, a __demon __snickered__._

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><p>It's short, I know, but see it as some kind of intro (Or somethin'…)<p>

I'm a little nervous about all this (writing this story, I mean) – I have a lot of fics on my computer but none seemed good enough; not to mention that I have a huge amount of unfinished one-shots at every corner. At night I can feel them _begging _my lame brain for a finish dot, but I get lost when I open them -_-

Next chapter will be posted this week. Ciao!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** A big thank you to all those who reviewed! You may not know it, but your comments are of a great inspiration. The only problem is, I can't thank all of you properly since there are some anonymous reviews, so I'm thanking them here! Read the bottom page if you wonderful people wish to see them

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><p>Chap.2:<p>

»`What happens in the stairs, _stays_ in the stairs´«

_`»0«´_

Professor Marie's class, the second period, was running slowly but with unusual fun. For once, all the students of Class Crescent were paying full attention to what the Death Scythe had to communicate, but not because her words were important.

_Well… they are somewhat important._ Maka thought for a second, glancing up from her book to look down at the honey blond teacher who was happily perched on top of her work desk.

She scrounged her nose and hid her face behind her novel once again, shaking her head while trying to prevent the dismay that suddenly took over to engulf her all at once. There was an urge of stomping right here and now over to Marie and ask her just what in the name of Heaven and Earth and everything that still remained saint in this world was she doing in an hour that was supposed to be left to study.

But what would people think of her then? She's already the nerd of the school (though Ox still surpasses her somewhat – success!) so she somehow has to maintain some bits of dignity. Plus, if all the noise of giggles and cackles can be ignored, she can actually enjoy the fine piece of literature. The scythe meister peered over the pages once again and snorted. And even Ox and Harvar seemed to be having a good time!

_What an unusual class. If it can even be called that._

Marie said something that made the students laugh again and Maka found herself twitching her lips in a ghost-like smile. No, no. She refuses to descend to such a level and chortle like the majority, she's better than that!

"So, Marie-sensei, I was wondering…" A student that sat on the second row of seats lifted his hand and snickered. "Do Death Scythes get some kind of body modification too?"

Blinking, Marie answered his question with a naïve smile. "Why do you think of that?" She placed a finger below her chin. "Although it's understandable. Weapons change when in attack mode, so why not when in rest? Oh! I remember once when a friend of mine thought that becoming more powerful would improve her breast size-" Maka's eye twitched as she waited patiently for a retort that never came. Then she reminded herself that a certain scythe's mouth wasn't present by her side, and felt lonely.

She became so fond of Soul that by now his uncommon absence seemed strange. They always stood together, always side by side during daytime and nighttime. Since the notice that her soul was a target to all witches who knew the uses of Soul Protect, her Soul Perception being a just a bit too handy, Soul took a protective roll and as so rarely skipped class. But it doesn't mean he still doesn't.

His presence is missed. Even if his lame jokes make her day turn to worse in most occasions and she endures a rage until he breaks his cool and apologizes. Kind'a like this morning.

By the middle of her thoughts, the ash-blond girl turned her head just in time to see her best friend release a sigh. "Is everything okay Tsubaki? You seem a little off today." Another fit of laughter erupted from her classmates' throats but this time Maka paid no mind. She set her book closed before her and turned to a very tired-looking Tsubaki.

"Everything's fine." Tsubaki drawled, her back hunched over her part of the desk in a position not suitable for someone who looks 'fine' on a regular day. Hey, Shibusen students are strange but not _that_ strange.

"You have my full attention." The tech smiled. "Speak whatever, my ears are up."

The girl beside her chuckled, cracked her back after sitting straight and folded her hands on her lap like usual. "What a high spirit you have today."

"You can say that living with a lazy idiot has its perks. But don't get too used to it or next thing you know you'll be begging me to stop speaking in Soulish and act more like a normal citizen."

Tsubaki's posture clearly relaxed after the attempt of joke, jerking a fist above her mouth and releasing that silly, adorable smile that characterized so well the gracious Black Arm. Maka turned her head just in time to see professor Marie finishing yet another tale, followed by the anticipated row of laughter and smiled as well.

No wonder Black Star always seemed to turn softer when his weapon displayed happiness; it was an endearing sound, such that the blue haired monkey actually halted his glorious talk and listened carefully to everything she had to show.

At the memory of Black Star she knitted eyebrows and patted the girl with indigo eyes, her palm reassuring her friend with no need for words.

To prove her suspicions, the girl wearing a high ponytail supported her chin with both hands and explained, background noise long forgotten as the two females proceeded with their private talk. "I wonder what Black Star and Soul are doing right now."

"Probably sitting around at some corner doing whatever. You know, eating, sleeping, talking, brawling… playing with boogers." Tsubaki blinked and sent her a surprised look, Maka smiled nervously. "Just to check if you were listening."

"I think they would enjoy this class, it's a very light-hearted one."

"Yeah…" Maka's mind wandered. "Or they would jump off the window just to get more attention, it depends."

Suddenly a fist came out of nowhere and bonked the meister on the head.

It was all too quick for any of the students to notice seeing as they were more wrapped up listening to other things, and so Maka's face fell straight on top of her desk. While Tsubaki gasped and covered her mouth with her hands, Patty's amused hoot could be heard in the distance.

"I'm hitting you because I like you, you are my friend. And if you don't stop the lame jokes right now I'll have to do an encore." Liz cracked her fingers and examined the pinkish nails, certifying their damage. She peered over to her fallen comrade. "You got that? Do you want another wake up blow?"

"Hee hee~ Sissy feels murderous today~"

"No, I think I'll pass." Said the blond while her face was still turned upside down, her lips moving against the wood of the table. "Thanks, I needed that."

"Sure thing."

The Dark Arm spun on her seat to look fully at the young scythe meister and the Demon Pistol who had a nail polisher in one hand and a small handkerchief in the other. "Where's Kid?"

The Thompson shrugged. "He stayed home folding toilet paper so we decided to come first." She blew some air at her fingernails. "Today I don't feel like spending the morning running every bathroom of the house, he'll come in four hours or so."

"All in neat triangles he said! All in neat triangles or else he should die he said! Hee hee~"

Seeing Patty and Liz so carefree about the whole situation, the raven haired girl shrugged it off, choosing to focus her attention to Maka instead. She knew how it was to live with a troublesome meister, and sometimes it was better to just take a break from certain habits that needed mending. She poked the blond. "Are you alright?"

Even if faint, the three weapons perceived her nod. "People seem to be asking that a lot lately." Maka mumbled, forehead still connected with her side of the desk. "Soul is having problems again."

Tsubaki glanced a worried look at Liz as she placed her manicure set near her small cosmetics bag. The only one of the three who seemed indifferent to Maka's state was Patty who was on her way to rob the yellow crayons from the student before her. With a nudge of her elbow, the eldest of the Thompsons urged her to continue.

It was hard to explain complicated circumstances like these, but Maka saw that even if not in complete awareness of her situation, everyone who knew her position between her partner did their very best to lend a hand.

She raised her head only a little, her cheek nested above her forearm and pondered deeply.

Maybe they could clear the fog she possesses. Elizabeth can talk to Kid and arrange useful assistances from Lord Death, and Tsubaki can squeeze some juice from Black Star, seeing as his best bud probably told him more than what she thinks.

"This morning I felt a disturbance in his wavelength. It was faint, but it was there."

It was true. Right after climbing DWMA's stairway, more precisely after hitting him on the head with her book she came to notice an unusual aura coming off from his center. She took it as the Black Blood propelling in a faster mode, as it was common when adrenaline kicked in, but a Maka-Chop isn't enough to trigger that.

And then something in their link had faltered, a bit of wavelength seemed amiss and disturbed. And she thought of her friend suffering silently, inwardly struggling to keep his cool while she acted like in a regular daily basis. She would like it if he told her what was wrong, she could help, she could.

What if Soul was losing control over the Little Demon? What if the Imp, after all this time imprisoned, finally discovered a gap inside her partner's soul and was using it to practice his evil deeds. It was hard musing over such things, that reddish troll vandalizing Soul's essence and bringing forth his nastiest plans. In a worst case scenario, Maka imagined a ravenous white-haired, red-eyed weapon rampaging over Death City.

Beside her, Tsubaki moved closer along with Liz. After a moment of space to let the blond take a breather, the Dark Arm attacked again.

"Maka." Her sweet voice whispered, motherly instinct kicking now more than ever. "Allow me to put this in another perspective – professor Stein warned you that your Soul Perception would get sharper as time flew by, right?"

"Yes but not in a specific timeline." She deadpanned. "What do you mean?"

This time, it was Liz who came to the rescue. "What lady Nakatsukasa's trying to say here is that you're paying too much attention to useless things. So what if there's a change in Soul's wavelength, something so little means nothing. Nothing other than you growing as a meister I mean."

Such heartfelt words coming out from the girls, how good it felt having other options to look into despite her own, pessimistic ones. The warning bell shook her senses awake and the students prepared themselves for lunch break and from the corner of her eye Maka spotted Marie waving goodbye to everyone who passed by her desk, muttering 'thank you' and 'have a nice break' to the ones who were already out of the door.

Despite her earlier thoughts, Maka smiled a bright smile against her forearm so that no one but her would know. She felt so grateful, for the company and encouraging gestures, but most of all for their endurance and wise ideas. It revealed that they listened, stood through her rants and worked to make a difference. It was like a warm blanket over her heart, or like hot chocolate – because it made her melt inside.

All four ladies got up from their seats and calmly stepped down the small row of stairs towards professor Marie's desk. "So, feeling better now?"

"Hm?" This was a surprise, what was the blonde weapon talking about?

"I may be a klutz but I have an eye for people on the moon." Marie giggled and tapped a finger below the eye with no patch. "I hope this class served more than just an escape from the rough days."

Tsubaki was the first to notice the amiss situation. "We apologize Miss Marie, we know we shouldn't talk sideways on class and we are really, terribly sorry!"

However, Marie wasn't angry at all. She waved her hand and laughed once more. "Oh don't sweat over it. As far as I'm concerned, you girls exhaled today!" Her honey eyes landed on Maka. "Now you better hurry up to the Cafeteria – I heard they're serving pasta again today, isn't that wonderful?"

There was a spark, a little light of happiness inside her heart. "That's-"

"Maka Albarn." A deep voice boomed inside the walls of the classroom and all five heads turned at the same time. Too shocked too reply, Maka just stared. First at professor Sid who stood at the entrance door, a white sheet of paper on his hand as if he was inspecting something important. The second thing was the way he clutched the paper, as if he was nervous.

"Here!" She raised her hand. "Do you need my assistance in something?"

Sid nodded, his expression solemn. "It's best if you come with me."

_`»0«´_

_**-(a few moments ago)-**_

Black Star focused his confused glare on his white-haired mate, crossing his arms and legs in concentration. The typical image of the young assassin in his 'thinking pose' would have made Soul laugh-

-if the situation at hand wasn't so embarrassing.

"So, let me see if I get this straight…" Black Star recalled the facts in his head the best way he could, replaying the words that mostly caught his Godly attention during their friendly chatter. "You wanted an opinion from the Big Man because you couldn't stop looking at your partner's neck?"

Soul slapped himself _once again_. If only the pain would make him forget the current sticky situation he threw his body into – but that was too much luck for his reckless actions. And if hitting his head would miraculously make things disappear, by this time he would be living in oblivion.

Temperamental, bookworm meister, remember?

And the fact that she, once again, placed him between the wall and the sword (not literally of course, but that has happened once) with no way to escape from his dagger-like thoughts made him cringe. He was the one who wanted to escape the prison of the Evans manor, but only managed to get enthralled between the feathers of a commanding angel.

And _why _search _Black Star _for an opinion? What made Soul ask his hyper friend about something complicated as attraction for his meister? Maka made him do strange things, she doesn't know half the stupid stuff he carries out in her back because his cool only gets sturdy when he's by her side. She would probably laugh at him right now.

'Don't get frustrated, stay cool.' – it was today's motto. Strange, 'cause he felt like exploding. "You know what? Forget it and throw me a pretzel."

But Black Star didn't like the suggestion and only straightened his back before leaning back in the wall that stood next to one of DWMA's minor stairway. He stretched his legs in one of the stairs and placed his hands behind his head for support. "Nope." The great him forgetting about something that didn't make sense? No such thing; he would get to the bottom of this, no matter how unsubtle Soul's actions may seem.

The demon scythe groaned. "C'mooooon… Are you really going to make me walk up there and take those knots away from you?" Both of them were on each side of the row of stairs, facing each other but separated by little less than one meter when their legs were spread.

The tech shook his head no and closed his eyes with stubbornness typical of a child's, grabbing a handful of the biscuits and throwing them inside his mouth.

"Be a baby, see if I care." Soul grunted out crossing his arms.

These little gatherings of theirs were sometimes nothing more than pure laziness in attending class, so what they did was sit as far away from their classroom as possible and talk, eat or sleep until the sound of steps in the hallway were heard. Today their place of chose was the West Stairway.

Soul eyed his friend from the corner of his eye, too lazy to actually move and grab some pretzels to subdue his hunger. He could already feel the drool escaping from the corners of his mouth as he watched the azure haired meister chunk another set of biscuits down his throat. He crawled a little and nudged his foot with his own, returning to his previous position right after.

Black Star didn't even open his eyes.

"Fine! Give your godly advice Big Man – but while you do, throw me the God-dammed pretzels." Maybe it was too much of an exchange but he didn't care. Seeing Black Star eat those sweet goods made his brain work backwards and he was really lazy so, once again, a stupid thing he does in Maka's absence.

The tech grinned in victory and shouted a 'yahoo' before aiming the food sack at his mate's lap. "Once again, my greatness makes you kneel without the use of words! Maybe one day you'll stand my aura, but not today!"

"Yeah, maybe." Soul mouthed, unfazed.

While the tech rubbed his chin in thought, Soul ran a mental list about all the possible things he could hear from his mouth. Basically he would give him an unwanted advice and mock him or give him a good advice and then say something embarrassing and childish like 'Soul and Maka sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-'

Cringing, he prayed that nothing bad would happen. He had explained what happened this morning with a little too much detail for Black Star to take as a simple desire from his part to do _something_ to his meister – just some urges, nothing more.

The meister suddenly snapped, rubbing his palm together. The image made Soul zip his mouth shut, suddenly aware of the creepy aura around the teen's soul. "Dude, as your benevolent God, I will help you sort out that average mind of yours."

"Oh really, do tell." He wasn't that interested, but for now, he better see how this works. "But make it quick, I still have to pass by the board and pick a mission for this weekend. You know, do something useful so that Maka's book doesn't get intimate with my head, again."

"Look out! While you're busy ogling over her, kishin egg's gonna get the best of y'a." Black Star stood up and pointed a finger down at his face. Soul rolled his eyes. "Listen here, as impossible as it may be for you to believe, I was once on the same position you were. Tsubaki can be very distracting you see, her big boo-"

"Alright! I'm getting up now!" He didn't need a description of the Dark Arm's chest, he wasn't interested in it anyways. So, he placed his hands down for some support and tried hoisting himself up.

But he couldn't.

The tech grinned, not noticing the unusual scene before him. "I got a plan, I mean it! I will put it to good use … you won't ever … awkw…d w… wa…ing…"

All words passed by deaf ears.

"Black Star…"

Soul became more aware of the time, more aware of the noise that was growing and blocking every sense he possessed. _Was that laughter? Was that – that – Maka?_

_A voice he knew all too well appeared from a hidden corner of the Black Room, biting his fingernails with expectation. "__What's going on__?" Well, that was what Soul wanted to ask but… The body, on the ground-_

"_**My, my, what imagination you have."**_

"Black Star."

_And Maka was being pulled away from him, dripping black and red on the tile floor, panting heavily while sprawling her limbs like a flightless bird, like an angel with no wings. Her voice, hoarse, raspy, __**broken**__, blended with the atmosphere just right. She was dying, vanishing, __**disappearing**__- it was(n't) RIGHT!_

_How could it feel right? How could it? It would only feel right if she was dying, and she wasn't dying! Right? RIGHT?_

…_right?_

_STOP__!_

"Black Star!"

_How can he think of such things? Soul shook his head, trying to make the images disappear __**(but they didn't, they **__**didn't**__**)**__ and failing miserably. The noise was growing, a buzzing nearly as great as the devil's song was pushing his eyelids shut with sheer force. The tech kept on talking, unknown to it all._

"_**Hey, hey Soul."**_

Go _away_.

"_**Are you the devil who's running such a sweet tune?"**_

"BLACK STAR!"

"WHAT!" His friend finally responded back, too hunched up on an explanation that was being heard by absolutely no one, so utterly mad because all this time his all-mighty voice stood ignored. Between 'Din Dong's, 'Dong Din's and hurried steps from the students that left their classes to attend their lunch break, the azure haired teen widened his eyes and descended towards Soul's eye level.

"My legs… I can't move…"

_`»0«´_

_**-(present time)-**_

"Stupid, stupid, stupid! I knew something was wrong."

"…" Professor Sid and his blank eyes scanned Maka and her trembling form, shoulders stirring up and down with each set back sob. "Maka- hey! Wait!" Even with demanding tone and raised hand he could not stop the young blonde from dashing down the hall. Her retreating back sent his nerves on edge and what was left of his hair stand up. "Kids these days…"

He would help in what he could, that's the type of man he had always aimed to be. But it was getting harder to do so if everyone kept pulling fast ones.

"I have to communicate important memos to Lord Death, so this is the only thing I can do for you now." He voiced to the empty place, a sign that all of DWMA's students were either chilling outside or enjoying their lunch. "You can come out now Black*Star. I kept my promise, because that's the kind of man I was."

From behind a pillar a spiky-haired teen appeared and stepped to the middle of the corridor. "Yeah yeah… and I heard your explanation."He looked down at his gloved hands and sucked in a breath. "Thanks for the help."

With his thumb and forefinger, Sid pinched the bridge of his nose. It didn't work anymore, for settling the irritation he means, but as he spun on his heel and took in the image of a devastated Black Star he couldn't help but raise his hand and ruffle the teen's hair. The young assassin was gazing thoughtfully at the distance, his hands curled into fists by his sides.

"She didn't even notice me. Psh, good one." He slapped himself, hard, and left his palm over his eyes in a symbol of shame.

The fingers that brushed through his azure locks rubbed his head once more. "If you want to help, come with me to do some hard work. I have many errands to run today, so you can assist me."

"Thanks." He repeated, but this time with his eyes fixated on Sid's blank ones.

The zombie smiled, well aware that two sincere 'thank you's were something to be grateful about, even if the situation didn't call for so and his young protégé carried a weight on his shoulders – another one to add to the count. He patted his shoulder as he moved away. "No problem."

Black Star sighed and followed his mentor.

_`»0«´_

Something special:

_JacketsAreCool-notloggedin ~ _you say you've read my other stories and said you've enjoyed them – I say your comment is worth a million first rate stories, mine aren't enough :D Thank you so much! It's reviews like these that make all the dread after posting something worth it.

_xXHikariRenXx_ ~ a 'please continue' with caps lock :p, and you say I'm a good writer? Far from it actually, but I loved your comment :)

_Captain Symmetry_ ~ thank you! I'm glad you think it's good! (so happy right now)

Hurray for Black StarxSid moment! Yaaaaaaayyy  
>I mean, Sid was the one who brought him home and trained him right? So why don't we see some kind of relation between them? It's a missing fact (oh Okubo…)<p>

And so ends the second chapter ~


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **I am _not _content with this chapter. I'm sorry -_- But this chapter was necessary or else my mind would not get some rest (I write to ease headaches when I can't sleep, isn't that great?)

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><p><em>`»<em> Do I skip one _or_ do I skip two? _«´_

Every step grew heavy as the worry for Soul continued to accumulate in the confinements of her head. Recalling Professor Sid's exact words were of major importance right now, seeing as her assumptions were taking a turn to worse with each possible scenario involving her partner's recent accident.

"_I got the information that your partner's not feeling well." _He had said. _"A temporary numbness took him over at once, but I recall it being a secondary effect from your last mission." _He had scanned the paper. _"It's nothing to be concerned about, I'm sure. But you're free to visit him at the Infirmary if you want, I just came here to report some facts." _He had stated.

But where he said sudden numbness she thought of paralyzed, when he told her that Soul wasn't feeling well the Black Blood came into thought, when his blue lips formed the words 'nothing to be concerned about' she noted the stillness of his shoulders, the way Sid's entire body seemed to become frozen like he was speaking lies.

Facts are: Sid Barret never lies, he doesn't like it, he doesn't do it. That was _not _the kind of man he was.

(but taking turns to worse is what she was best, so what if Sid lied?)

Maka took a sharp turn to the left and continued her marathon to the Infirmary. At the end of the hall she spotted her goal and her heart jumped up her throat. If Soul's condition wasn't bad and whatever happened to him really was nothing too hard to deal with then he was going to get such a dent on his head that even the Reaper-Chop would back up in shame.

"…_nothing to be concerned about…"_

"Nothing to be concerned about my ass." She muttered through clenched teeth. "If there was nothing to be concerned about then he didn't have to bring me to the sidelines just to tell me that."

Her hands didn't even need a command; they moved by their own accord and pushed the door open wide. There she set her eyes on the first thing that caught her attention – Soul, on a bed, with his eyes closed.

She skipped one or two steps with the hurry of getting to his side, tripping and almost falling in the process. Her first action was to place her hand on top of his open palm, lacing his gracious pianist fingers between her own, small but rough ones. She enclosed them with both her hands when her partner twitched, his lids opening ever so slightly.

His condition gives her the chills, in a bad way of course. With all the 'do this', 'do that', 'kill this' and 'avoid getting killed by that' that they have lived since their official entrance in Shibusen, her eyes don't arrange enough time to do a scan up his being.

"Maka." His voice was so raspy, had he been screaming while she was away? He looked terrible, old and fallen like a dirty feather, forgotten and left to vanish on a cold ground with no wind. It always ended up here, on this bed, with her at the same position as ever. Since their first accident revolving kishin eggs, this particular spot had been tabu, something that exists only to be avoided.

He's massacring her, torturing the living hell out of her. Soul gets up and sits on the soft mattress and her eyes are still trained on him, never leaving the bloody irises that now appear with black stains under. The young weapon calls her name again to get her attention but she's far away, searching between the walls of her mind for something close to a topic to begin a conversation.

What can she say? How can she start? Maybe she'll begin by knocking his little brains out and then scold the idiot for not talking about his problems sooner. No, that doesn't sound right, because where she's standing he's as fragile as a little kid. Yep, little kids are a good comparison right now, because anything else would remind her either of Little know-it-all-Demon or insanity, threatening to take over the weapons darkish soul. Both degrading choices, plus, they scare the sanity out of her.

Should she ask if he feels alright? Maka scoffed. No, she's done with that stupid question for today, actually she's had enough of these stupid things that are deemed to torment sleep. If she's set on turning Soul into a healthy person then something must change, quick. And guess what? – First thing in the list is her attitude of insecurity.

After a moment of waiting, Soul decides that enough is enough and waves his arms in front of her face. His meister has that adorable knot between her eyebrows, a very noticeable sign where he invisibly reads 'brain at work – over thinking'. "Yo, yo, snap out of it." He flicked his fingers to make noise.

That seemed to awake the blonde, but only for a moment until his crimson roses came into focus again. She brushed a few strands of cotton-white hair away and trailed his forehead with her thumbs. "Idiot." Idiot Soul, idiot problems that seem to always choose their life to knock at, idiot _someone _who thought meddling with her partner's life was funny and made it a regular joke.

Soul's forehead heated below her skin.

And where was Black Star? He was an idiot too, maybe even a bigger moron than Soul who probably never had nothing to do with this _accident_ in the first place. Where is he right now, when his best bud, his brother and pal need him the most? Weren't they skipping classes together?

Is she the only one who feels troubled over the fact that she's standing once more next to an injured Soul? Irked beyond repair, Maka felt water gather behind her eyes as she sat in front of the weapon, the mattress squeaking softly under her weight.

He saw something odd. "Look I-"

"He had temporary numbness, or whatever you call lack of blood rush after sitting so long with your legs crossed." A tall slender women wrapped in bandages entered the room with a file on her hands. Mira Nygus took a pen from the top pocket of her white gown and scribbled something before fully turning to face the pair. "As Sid probably informed you already."

Maka stood up in a rush. "Just that?" She asked incredulously.

The nurse smiled behind layers of bandages. "Just that."

"Hmm…" Something stank, real bad. "If so, why the need to put him on the Infirmary?"

As Mira glanced at the teen in question, the blond failed to notice his panicked expression and still body. "Well…" She began, turning her back to walk to the metal desk. "At the time, Black Star was the one who was accompanying Soul, and you know how he gets when something out of his intelligence range suddenly appears out of nowhere. In my honest opinion, when Soul complained about not being able to move, Black Star added one plus one and connected his strange behavior to the Black Blood."

That made sense, somewhat. The blue-haired monkey is aware of his pal's suffer as much as Tsubaki who is on top of the problem because of her best friend's constant need of advice, or like Death the Kid and his Demon guns who hear many details from Lord Death and the staff.

But mentioning her hyper friend arose other questions, where was Black Star now? Why didn't he stay here, when- "Why's he on a bed?" She suddenly snapped, surprising everyone in the room.

Contrary to her expectations, Mira Nigus did not falter her smile or let any signs confirm Maka's suspicions. Instead, she merely released a nervous laugh and crossed one leg over another quite rigidly as she tried explaining with a patience worth of a saint. "That would be my sole fault, my apologies."

Maka tilted her head to the side and waited, but the one who continued was the weapon lying on the mattress, dishearten about the sideways conversation of his concern taking place right next to him. "Look, the moron grabbed me by the waist, carried me like a sack of potatoes and dropped me here, screaming at the damn walls for someone to give me a shot because I was in pain."

The nurse looked away nervously, trying in vain to sustain her laughter. "When I heard him I was so panicky about the whole situation that I actually gave him a, let's say, more than necessary dose of Morphine?"

Maka blinked. Soul rubbed his ass while stepping out from his sitting position. "Yeah, that sure took the numbness away." He glared ahead.

Nigus took in a deep breath and regained some posture. "Sid was on his way to deliver some medical supplies when the whole ordeal occurred. He took Black Star and left your unconscious partner on the ground. But don't be too hard on him Maka, I'm sure Sid's twisting him as he can with whatever punishment he got his hands into. After all, it _was_ a modest shot."

The blonde's head tilted to the side in wonder, searching her weapon's flustered face for an answer. "Was it really that big?"

After dressing up in his black jacket and adjusting its collar, he muttered a quiet 'yes now can we go eat?' and marched to the exit. Before leaving however, Maka bowed once in gratitude and then hurried after a very flushed, very pissed off Soul who continued his way down the hall, every step costing him more than necessary has the effects of the applied drug were still taking time in fading away.

Mutedly, the meister made an appearance by his side as he walked, her footsteps contributing with no sound to the empty halls of Death Weapon and Meister Academy. His bloody orbs glanced from a very uninteresting scenery outside the window and finally to his partner who walked lightly at his side, tangling and untangling her hands.

Never before he lied to his meister, he calls it hiding what's not necessary for both their lives. She has worries of her own too, and somewhere deep inside Soul understands that there are certain past events regarding her life before his appearance that she prefers keeping underground.

But is hiding stuff considered lying? They have been through so much together, it seems unlikely they could part ways now of all times. The pair is and has been since day one considered within no match, everyone had said that it wouldn't work, that there are certain things beyond a person's changes.

Connecting souls… It's primarily the fact that they've accomplished Soul Resonance that most people shut up. And after that came destroying more powerful kishin eggs, ranking a higher level in the other students eyes, gaining the confidence and respect from the staff like they deserved. He glanced at her again. They can surpass _anything_, together. By connecting souls, he admits that it would be nice to do it in both ways.

Blushing furiously at his perverted moment, he opened his mouth to kill the silence but she beat him to it. "What do you feel like eating?"

"Huh?" Soul stopped dead on his track and allowed the question to roll up his mind. "...eating?"

"Yes Soul, food, munch, chow, something you need to keep your body working during the day. Should I be more specific?" The Scythe snickered, replaying Maka's moment this morning as the duo climbed the enormous stairway that lead to Shibusen and her attempt of joke. However, when he noted no traits of hilarity in her face he limited himself to an amused chuckle.

"I know what food is bookworm, don't need to teach me anything about it." He grinned. "They're serving pasta today right? Yup, I can already taste the tomato sauce from here."

"Eww, gross, wipe your droll." Soul smirked at the blonde's disgusted face while she crossed her arms in front of her petite chest and stated some facts. "And how can you taste the tomato sauce from here? You don't even know what kind of toppings they're serving!"

He rubbed his forehead with his palm. "Maka, please, it's a joke. Bear with me."

She set her mind to work. "Oh! You're making a mention to Pavlov's dog, good one Soul!" She beamed and clapped her hands while he rose an eyebrow. "That was actually a smart story, although comparing yourself to such a dog is kind'a degrading."

Dog jokes and lack of understanding aside, Soul was simply pleased at the sight of Maka's lighthearted smile. Her contentment shone over him and enlightened his cynic self, going as far as endangering his cool by forming a smile of his own.

It was in times like these that it didn't matter if her nerdinnes ruined one's mood. He loved, how even unintentionally, Maka could perform wonders inside him and leave a trail of white feathers for his feet to follow every time he lost his way. At that moment, Soul could firmly state that she was the one, that his ash-blond, flat-chested, bookworm of a meister was a chance of blissful future in his hands.

This was the moment, this was the revelation. So much as changed when he least expected it, how could a desire hit him so brutally, at a time like this? The attraction he felt hours ago could not compare at the feeling that overwhelmed the young Scythe, and he now understood what needed to be done.

It would not ruin their relationship, it would not break apart their bond. They were made for each other, they could stand whatever difficulties stood in their way and break barriers. She is his soulmate, the one (the only one) who can cope him. If she says no, he won't ever find anyone else suitable for him, but Soul will be fine, because today he's going to man up and be the one who takes the head out of comfort zone and submits it to danger.

He could help her, she could help him. What they live is a partnership, simple as do, re, mi.

Maka stared at his eyes, his fingers brushing her scalp and his face smiling warmly down at her. "Hey, wanna skip?"

She wanted to do many things after he spoke. The first being bonk him on the head for even thinking this would be something she would agree to. And what was with him and classes today? He missed half of the first period when he disappeared with the excuse of using the bathroom and mysteriously never came back again, ditched second period in favor of hanging out with Black Star and now he was in an attempt to drag her with him for the rest of the afternoon!

And that look and goofy way to ruffle her hair, she hates when he does that, it ruins her pigtails and then she has to hear it from Kid who took the habit of an aftermath when complaining about her lack of balance every time it happens. This time it's tenderer though, and she can see that behind his gruff appearance he has a deep meaning behind his words and actions.

But skipping class? Really? Does he expect that to happen? What about her perfect score? It's just, too perfect to be ignored! Not to mention her reputation does not allow missing a moment spent in favor of learning, especially so that her partner can have a good time. It has happened before and she told him out.

"Ok."

…however, she could not say no to that smile, so in contrast with his cool endeavors.

_`»0«´_

"I can't believe I actually agreed to that." Maka drawled, continuously punching her forehead in order to sort out her thoughts. "Ok, why did I say 'Ok'? I must be ill."

And maybe she was, who knows. Her face was still so hot because of her unexpected response that from the moment she left his side to retrieve her belongings until now she can _feel_ the burns appearing on her skin.

The approval of something so… _unlike_ her still doesn't suit well inside the blonde's mind, it reinforces the idea of her morals being reduced to crumbs each passing day in the presence of the white haired scythe.

Despite all her ponders, Maka can't say it didn't sound good at the time. From day one Soul understood who he was dealing with (a stuck-up, a bookworm, a nerd – call her whatever you want) and she has learned of his habits soon enough too (he's a smart-ass too, a lazy, a know-it-all in his own ways and always hides behind a cool surface), but there have and will always exist these little moments when both get surprised by uncommon events.

So she smiles, she curves her lips despite knowing all too well that what she's about to do is considered deserver of punishment.

"Where could he be taking me?" Maka finds herself pondering, musing over a thought of Soul taking her to a fancy restaurant for lunch, somewhere far away where no one from the Academy can find them. It'll be their alone time, just her soul and his. But by all means, this wasn't a _date_.

_Yeah right, a date. _She thinks with sarcasm, rolling her forest green eyes and laughing quietly with fear of being heard. Maybe there'll come a time where she'll get asked for a night out with some guy, but not today, not with Soul.

Yes, she _has_ brooded over this already, and with no doubt that one day she'll come to accept that people need to live on – but it makes a sad smile form on her face. She's not jealous, not really, but imagining her partner with another person is daunting, it brings fear to her heart. Her mind will never trust in a man as much as she confides in him, and it pains her, this feeling of strings pushing and tugging and squeezing inside her chest.

_Oh man… I feel like a criminal. _She thought after poking her head through the door of the Class Crescent's room. Swiftly, Maka ran towards her spot and started packing all her books with quickness worthy of a medal. Funny, it was like Soul was expecting this turn of events as he didn't even brought any type of study material to school, something he had shown to be contrary moments ago inside the halls.

Curiosity got the best of her and Maka climbed the last set of steps to the final row of desks. The Demon Scythe had volunteered to keep her company, mostly because he feared of the blonde's resolve enter in falter mode which would end, like he said, in her sitting her butt on her seat and waiting for the whole break to end just to not face him.

Well, too bad for her, she was one to keep promises so there, no need to worry. Except for her safety that is, Maka doesn't know how her partner manages to escape classes whenever he feels like it. In her shoes, she decides these sorts of things need more mental preparation – the adrenaline is killing her!

On the top, a window expressed to her what she was finding hard to believe. Outside was Soul, in all his cool glory, as he started descending the main stairway of Shibusen. The blond noted no difference in his usual self – hands jammed in the pockets of the black jacket, feet dragging on the ground in a stubbornness, silently rebelling against her and her demands of 'neat posture'. There was no rigidness in his moves, no insecurity in his actions, alas, she's like a walking robot with lack of oil an fear of creaking a sound in the most inopportune moment.

She sighed and also made her way down the stairs of the room. Well, no one has stopped her so far, like she had somehow hoped to. The butterflies in her stomach where getting really hard to ignore-

"_**Hello there sweetie."**_

Her body spun around so fast that she had to grab a desk for leverage, almost falling down the stairs. "What the- What the hell are you doing here!" She demands, but he only snickers.

_His red body glowing, his hard skin full of bumps, his menacing eyes drinking whatever he could, his black fingernails tap-tap-tapping the wood of the ground where he sat, legs dangling out the last stair._

"Wait"

She isn't on the Black Room.

Soul has yet to connect with her today; she hasn't felt his spirit wavelength since two days ago in their last mission.

And the Little Demon continued to stare down at her. _His yellowish horns worsening his shadow, his big hand supporting his chin, his dark-as-a-nightmare suit exhibiting wrinkles. All facts together would make sense if it was real, but he wasn't allowed to roam the place as he well pleased. Soul didn't allow him to do so._

"How did you-" Words fail to come out as she takes one step back and almost falls. She positions her weight in time though, not in the mood to hurt herself so to have a proper explanation.

"_**I wouldn't do that if I were you, you can break your sweet gracious neck." **_The demon talks while grinning in a very Soul-like way, every word running a shiver down her spine. _**"And then poor Soul Evans won't have a lunch date."**_

"Soul… Evans? Are you talking about Soul, my partner?" She ignores the mention of the word 'date' and focuses instead on other things. Never before has she heard his last name, and now that she has, it rings a bell.

This was her chance, Maka could ask him whatever she wanted and he would answer her as much as she liked. After all, he couldn't touch her – she was a repellent, her veins ran with Anti-Demon wavelength! Finally, after so much time in the dark her ideas of his life until she met him will be cleared up.

But she shakes her head no, because it's not the Red Imp's duty to inform her of such things. "How-"

"_**I know what you're thinking." **_The Imp talks with dark knowing. _**"I know you as well as him, and you are willing to avoid a first-class conversation because of your standards. I say, and excuse my words, ditch the morals and hear what I have to speak. You won't be cheating on him, I **__**am**__** a part of him, we are the same."**_

"Now that's a big fat lie, you two are nothing alike. And no matter what you do, I won't listen to any of it. Now, how-"

"_**What are you thinking on doing if something slips out of my mouth hmm? You can't remain oblivious for so long, I bet you're going to research his last name the next time you have the chance."**_

"Nope." Maka stubbornly crossed her arms and shifted her weight to the other foot. "Won't do it, because I'm loyal and I'll wait until he's ready."

"_**How cute, but are you certain of that resolve?"**_ He snickers. _**"Too bad… You know, his family is a v-"**_

Fine, if the bastard wasn't going to believe her then she would have to show just how determined she was. Inside her throat Maka stored her voice, letting its release fill the walls while her palms pressed her ears further inside her head.

To say the least, the Little Demon was annoyed, very annoyed. He stopped the tapping and cleaned the insides of his ear with his little finger. _**"So you plan to scream as a big child and make a scene every time I try to talk?"**_

Irritated as well, Maka crossed her arms once again. "Yep, so I'm going to ask you one more time. How-"

"_**My my, I once in a while wonder-"**_ That's it.

The blond technician repeated the action, remaining in a high pitch on purpose so that the Red Imp knew she meant seriousness. Who was he to ignore her? Who did he think he was, talking out loud as if he owned the place when in reality he stood as a mere illusion in front of everybody else, something that caused no harm? He was nobody, he had no soul, he couldn't hurt her.

She doesn't know how long she stood there, eyes shut with a bothersome voice keeping her vocal chords amused. Only when her throat pained to even moan did she let herself relax momentarily, revealing watery lids from all the shouting.

_The Demon raised his reddish body that even though small, extended an intimidating shadow over her figure. He was angry, he was beyond understanding, his ice-blue eyes demanded obedience and his fists explained what words could not. __**"How. Dare. You." **__He spat at the girl wearing pigtails while she flinched a step down, surprised by the turn of events._

_The demon would obey the one who shared his blood, but not those Soul was attached to._

"Stop interrupting me!" And with her rests of strength she barked right back at him, brows joined on top of her forehead. "How did you get here? Why are you here? Why did you come to me if you loath me so much! Soul isn't here, I'M NOT IN RESSONACE, I want answers!"

_The Demon breathed in. The Demon breathed out._

_The Demon regained _his calm.

"_**Today's accident had to do with me. But you already knew that, didn't you? Didn't your Soul Percept-… Wait. WHAT? You didn't?"**__He laughed, he chuckled, he cackled. It was all a set of disgusting sounds. __**"Soul is a liar. The boy kept his past a secret, spouts nonsense in his present and keeps his thoughts of future to himself and himself only."**_

"Cover your ears and shout, cover your ears and shout." If she did that, life would have gone better. Maka could be on her way down Shibusen stairway, happily wondering of what food she could eat today.

_The manifestation of Black Blood continued, twitching his fingers as if tempted to bite them in anxiety. __**"Take my advice, don't trust him, continue your regular, boring, daily routine and remain forever in this hole you call life. If you're willing to put up with a demon for the rest of times then go to him, be with him – he's so charming ain't he? His hands are worth millions you know? Won't that feel good, having all that money?"**_

She stared.

"_**He's a LIAR! If he feels no trouble when lying about this then he certainly has no remorse when hiding other things. And actions speak louder than words my dear, isn't that right? He~ He~. Why aren't you blocking my noise now?"**_

"_**Soul. Is. A. LIAR."**_

"_**Hey! Hey!"**_

"_**Today's accident, he lied about that too you know. He lied, lied, LIED."**_

She felt sick with the need to empty her stomach of whatever remained of her rushed breakfast.

"_**He~ He~"**_

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><p>As I said before, I am not content with this chapter. It feels rushed, and my thoughts were allays skipping the main plot so I had ideas thrown here whenever I had one.<p>

Oh well. Last chapter I wrote special thanks to all who reviewd here, everyone who commented this time allows pm's so I feel no need for that (it makes me feel kind'a pushy, writing my thanks here, but if you prefer that way let me know!)

Ciao :3


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Next chapter will be the last! I wanted to make this a short story since my mind still can't take fics with greater lengths (which means greater plots and greater use of words which I find kind of difficult, not to mention giving use to all characters). Hope the chap is of your liking!

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><p>Chap. 4<p>

_`» _Illusions, Eye Cheaters – _Crazy_ Stairs_ «´_

_`»0«´_

In those minutes Soul stood there, leant against a wall, patiently waiting with a never ceasing gaze for the moment his meister would appear and descend to him. There was a little preoccupation, a tiny something nagging his brains and tempting him, demanding his lazy feet to get a move on and start walking already.

It's called anxiety, a beast that grows by the second.

And can you blame the teen? It's been – and he checked the street's clock for the fourteenth time – ten minutes since Maka ran off to get her things. Does it take that long? Packing bags he means, because in no way she would delay this much, not when her feet left him with that nervous quickness she's so known of.

It's only normal to be nervous, even a cool guy like him can feel the usual 'butterflies in my stomach' sensation once in a while, stumbling, fluttering and wreaking damage below his skin. But anything would be better than the dreaded feeling he's presenting right now - it's bending his lungs and making his willpower diminish as his hands twitch, already prepared to snake their way up his body and grab a certain place above his heart.

Most of all, in this spare time Soul found returning his train of thoughts to the same thing over and over again something inevitable. Next time the bookworm asks for some silence for her brain to work at one hundred percent, he's actually going to give what she asks, shut his yap _and_ give her credit. Because man… Did this thinking hurt.

He'll give her another two minutes. Any more would be suicide.

What would someone expect of a guy who's about to spill his guts to a girl he cares about? And not just any girl, but Maka. Probably the only female he has ever come to meet who repels any kind of close relationships. He's not the one to talk much about it either, because he once thought being alone would be another cool point on his favor, plus, there was no need to worry about others when he stood as company to himself only. But that's beside the point, before the day he first played the black grand in front of his partner.

Glancing one more time to the skull-shaped clock he sighed, rubbing the sweat of his hands in his trousers and gently poking his lower lip with fear of leaving a gash. He muses inside and allows his mind to change the topic, thinking of how scary he might look if blood left his mouth like crimson string. Perhaps like a monster, what with his burgundy eye color and spiky teeth. If Maka saw him in that state she wouldn't even think twice before replying with a shaking head at his offered kiss-

_Stop. Thinking. About those things. God… _In his mind, lamer than this was impossible.

Finally, a familiar wavelength spiked from the top of the stairway and his heart skipped a beat, suddenly feeling very giddy to get the whole ordeal done so that she could reject him and send him to move on with his miserable life. Soul isn't one to think positive, by worsening the upcoming scenarios he's able to come with a proper escape route and resolve in the best way possible. He just hopes that it doesn't get to that, because there will be a lot of awkwardness and lame words.

At first he sees a dot, but Maka's features then occupy his focus and he can distinguish her figure in the distance. Her graceful steps ease him and his nerves, but his body remains as rigid as ever. There's something wrong with the way the girl moves, each foot placed below looks soft and with no noise to join, but her arms are robotically crossed behind her back and her eyes shine with a nightmarish shadow.

And where's her shoulder bag? Oh no… Shinigami help him if she pulls a 'I changed my mind' kind of speech. She sounded as nervous as him back then! Well, probably because it was her first time skipping an afternoon worth of classes but still, must she do this today?

Somewhere in the depths of his soul he understood something was wrong and couldn't help but cringe. Great, she's really calling it off. It was worth a try at least, but it might be better to follow her to class as well. Meh, he's not that depressed, he'll get another shot when they arrive home if the Gods allow such fate.

Soul walked to the enormous stairway and climbed until he reached the middle, halting when two cold hands grabbed him by the shoulders and made him stop on his tracks. He raised his head and took in the image of a pair of mossy green eyes and dampen black lashes. Strange, she seemed so sad yet had no reason to be in such state. It made his beating lung thump a bit faster, sensing how low key her soul worked on at the moment. In one swift moment Maka enlaced her fingers with his, creating an intimate physical contact with no need of further gestures.

"Were you crying?" She has, there was no need no ask the stupid question. But as a secondary effect of being hand on hand his brain worked at a slower pace, purposely throwing in the most ridiculous phrases a man could ever spout. And then his meister slips out a tear, and the fog that momentarily tormented him cleared in a snap. "What's wrong?"

As one of Soul's hands take both of hers, the other one grabs a slim shoulder and shakes it with slight fear. When her lids close in agony the Demon Scythe enters in troubled mode and panics. He faintly trails the once pink-cheek and pinches it lightly, if only it would give them some more color.

Maka shakes her head into his palm and lets ash-blond hair tickle his skin, knuckles relaxing at the feeling. This was getting too close, too warm to be considered as simple meister/weapon interaction.

And that's how they spent the next moments. Spirits connected through their hands, irises locked together and time flew by while the little angel admired his eyes and he, the devil, admired hers. It was incredibly uncomfortable, standing outside the Academy in a spot where anyone and everyone who decided to take a stroll could spot them and judge the sight. They looked like – like a _couple_.

But still remained the ugly truth, and her face was getting wetter by the second. "Mak-"

"Why do you lie?" Another unanswered question, another wall she planted around her heart. Moments ago she had been fine, eager to _skip classes _with him. What had changed?

"I…" Soul takes precious seconds to ponder, not sure of how in the name of Lord Death this girl comes up with these sort of questions. "I lied? What are you talking about, I didn't lie to you."

She forms a fist and presses it into his chest, right in the middle. "Why do you want to take me away from the Academy, tell me what do you really want."

_As she found out? _Maka is a smart girl, clever enough to understand second intentions even if he's the one gifted in those types of skills. The white haired boy blushed a shade of dark red and thought of how bad it would be if he told her what truthfully laid in his heart. When he takes too much in formulating a decent answer she launches another question.

"You couldn't move today because of the Black Blood right? It wasn't numbness or anything alike." And what she says left him in a worse, tangled state. "You even lied to nurse Naigus." She laughed bitterly, and her smile faded into a frown. "Why? Why Soul?"

Inside his being, the young weapon could feel the inspection of every bit of his soul. Standing in front of Maka, as she thoroughly examined what was left of his sanity, a thick atmosphere involved time and space. With nothing better to do, he stared.

Her irises widened, returning to their half lighted, sad state after realizing that her fears were all right. But she wasn't ready to give up, what she has heard could have been a lie as well. So the blond took a deep breath and slumped a bit forward as to look better into the truth. The Imp's words make a return. "Is it true that your hands are worth millions Soul? Does your blood hide more than what you say?"

Soul stood in silence and his body fought against his urges to run away. The hands that were once clasped so tightly left signs of diffidence and faltered.

"Is your name Soul Evans?"

The weapon squared his shoulders.

Beside him Maka sniffled and tried to swallow a sob, her throat whimpering and releasing unwanted noises. They didn't echo, they were small but significant; they made his mood sadden along with the technician. It didn't come in disguise that her realization took a heavy weight out of his back, but at the same time, something didn't feel tight.

The ash-blond meister moved backwards and took one step up the stairs. When her body was turned sideways and Soul finally felt movement, he grasped his meister's hands once again and begged silently for her not to leave, to give his poor self another chance. To his surprise her pink lips curved up at the corners and he could honestly state that she was grateful for the gesture, amused by his try. However, she shook his warmth away and brushed salty water out of her vision.

"I'm not angry with you." The blond explained as she waved wet strands out of her sight. She thought of her answer and frowned. "I take that back. I'm actually very _pissed_, as you would say. But not because of your name, only partially. I mean- _Hmmmm…_ Just, give me some time, please?"

The white haired teen nodded and watched her retreat with the same mechanical movements as before, but while she remained in ear range he inquired. "When can I come looking for you?"

She raised her head and fixated her vision on a certain spot at the top of the Academy's ceiling. Same as this morning, Soul glanced up as well and found nothing unusual, not even a jumpy Black Star to lighten the mood. Maybe he'll look for the Dark Arm's meister when he's had enough space between him and the scythe technician, after all, he owns him some explanations.

Just like before, Maka's neck called his attention and begged with no noise for a touch of comfort. The little minx… And she still placed wired fences around her body, because he forgot he was a cool guy and never told her about his past. And why should she be interested in it anyway? Why was she so troubled over that fact in his life? It was not something light that should be hid from a partner (specially her), things regarding his past should remain of no importance however – because she once stated that it didn't matter if he had an alias. His actions proved him worth of trust, and that was all she could ever ask for.

"Whenever you feel like it."

_What they live is a partnership, simple as do, re, mi. _– Too bad she doesn't understand music as much as he wishes to.

But he nods, because at least her words didn't sting between their bond.

_`»0«´_

"Soul?" Death the Kid stops near the entrance of the Academy's Library and examines the white-haired weapon with stern golden eyes. The scythe in question doesn't even raise his head to glance at his pal and decides to only wave a hand as if signalizing that he's listening. "What are you doing here?"

Soul remains immobile in his spot at the study table near a bookshelf, face hidden between his forearms. Kid didn't understand what was troubling his friend; like most things born from of experiences, he doesn't comprehend certain basic emotions natural of human nature. He titled his head to the twins that stood faithfully behind him and reminded that, however, the position he today stands allows more understanding of hearts that flows with sensations.

He made a sign for his weapons to follow and continued his inquisition as he approached Soul. "For you to be here it must mean Maka has gone missing. Is the situation grave enough for me to worry or do you have everything under control?"

Liz pinched the bridge of her nose and signed for Patty to bonk her meister on the head; it seemed she was doing that a lot today, so she just settled on having her sister do what she declined and the young Thompson so eagerly accepted. "Of course it's something to worry about Kid!" Liz screeched, ignoring the fact that she was present in public area known for its silence. Patty laughed. "She's missing Azusa's speech, _Azusa's_. You know as well as I do that two nerds combined with each other tend to love communicating in codes." She shuddered.

"MY HAIR PATTY! FIX THE BACK OF MY HAIR RIGHT NOW!"

"Hee~ Hee~"

Strange, no one seemed to budge into this little interaction of theirs, seemingly their noise must not be loud enough. "Hey, can you keep it down? I'm trying to concentrate here."

This seemed to silence the trio, and Soul hated that his voice transpired enough tenseness to quiet what was probably the most disturbed pairing of DWMA. He rested his cheek on the once cold surface of the desk (now humid because of his breath) and glared ahead at no particular book, irritated because it was the second fresh feeling he lost today.

The first being his meister's flesh of course. It was always cold to the touch, and his often hot body found relief in her presence. His glare softened at the memory of her cold cheeks suddenly turning warm under layers of salty water, the moistness of her tears still burning at his fingers.

Somehow, something went horribly wrong today, and in this particular horrid moment he can count them by finger: he made a mess by leaving a problem related to the Black Blood hidden, let Black Star escape from punishment while being put out by a shot on the ass (that, by the way, still _stings_), unintentionally upset his meister, his stomach's growling because he hasn't eaten since this morning-!

"Gaaaaaaaahhh" He's on the verge of having a mental breakdown.

Kid traded a glance with his weapons before sitting in front of his friend, both Thompsons approaching in a symmetrical way behind and placing their hands on the chairs back. "Do you need to vent out Soul? I can be of assistance in that way."

A guttural chuckle erupted from the depths of Soul's throat, pearly-whites poking beneath cherry lips as he thought of the best way to 'vent out' things to Kid. They weren't good ideas, the main reason being that the Library was not a synonym of talk or noise of any sort actually, and if Maka ever saw him chatting in a place that was practically her sanctuary. "Nah, it's fine."

In reality, he is only at this particular space for a fact that he thought he knew all too well about his technician. He reflected about things, he really did, but in all honesty Soul didn't know if he was ready to face his soulmate again. Because he came here looking for the girl, hoping in vain for her comforting presence along with fresh skin to put down his flames of anger, the ones which are slowly eating his insides from the insides out.

Imagine his shock when his bloody irises found no traces of Maka in her usual spot, the one he's sitting at right now. Moments ago, before Kid's arrival, he ventured inside the place, searching between bookshelves for a shadowed ash-blond, scythe meister, leaning against a row of books and mourning over her idiot of a partner who remains with trust issues, even after all this time. He rubbed his temples and sighed, reconsidering the meaning of word 'trust' and what it really meant.

Maka – even though being a boy, she trusted him from the start, when her hands clasped his in a shake of partnership. Plus, she was the one who raised the hand, not him. The white haired weapon chuckled once more at his silliness, only now seeing clearly, recognizing that in their life he was the one who hasn't found enough faith to deepen a relationship. And he was hoping it would last while some things remained in secrecy, what a joke.

The young Shiningami shifted on his seat, warning the male weapon that yes, he was still here. "Do you need anything at all? Some words of encouragement, a pat on the back…" He glanced at his crestfallen face. "…maybe something to eat?"

Again, Soul waved a hand in front of his head. "No need." And then he returned to his previous position.

When Death the Kid poked his head (just a slight touch of course, so to not worsen the sad symmetry of his snowy hair), he knew his 'help', so to say, wasn't going to end there. "Talking helps Soul, it really does." He oh so predictably mentioned while folding hands on top of the table. "And that's why I'm offering my ears to you."

He laughed. "Man, that sounds so wrong."

While the trio exchanged a glance, the white haired weapon leant his back on the chair, rolling his shoulders to shake all grogginess away. Talk, the one who needs a _talk_ is Maka. Or maybe a sweet chat, hell he doesn't even know if what she really needs is a scold or something similar. Should he call Spirit for help-?

Nah… He'll refrain from rash decisions.

But a talk doesn't sound as bad as he initially wondered. When it's Kid the one who asks him, calmly, with no rush for a faster, brighter future where everyone's collected and in high spirits, something clicks and suddenly a light switches on.

Maybe he hasn't placed things the right way; all that clouded his vision up until this moment were images of his meister and the feeling of warm tears under his touch. He came searching for her when his internal clock stroke exactly one hour. Up until then he had been sitting at nowhere in special, fist below his chin clenching and unclenching as the same pictures burned behind closed eyelids every time he gave his eyes some rest.

The first spot he decided to arrive – the Library. But it had been a foolish idea, relying on the same place for so long and then coming to the conclusion that by telling him to _follow _when he felt ready she meant, underlined of course, that she was _not _hiding her skinny ass behind rows of literature. And then he sat down again, on the same spot she always rested when the reading-bug came to plague her while on the Academy. His own seat would be where Kid is at now, where he would admire her skidding her eyes as she read phrase after phrase, awaiting to leave together and do something more productive with his meister.

When his pianist fingers started a rhythmic tap on the wood of the table, the music came into his mind. Music… Strange, why did the thought of it made his spine tingle in a more insidious way? Maka ran away – no, she didn't _run away_ (because that simply wouldn't be Maka), she gave their partnership a small rest because she somehow figured out his last name and the implications that it brought altogether. Who was the smarty pants that thought it would be a good idea to spill out his personal life? The only one who knows is Lord Death, seeing as students are allowed to have alias with no further questions in this weird school.

Figures she would be mad, or sad, or whatever state Maka was in. Soul doesn't know the extent of her knowledge, nor how deep she is into his past. All that he understood was that his hands were of great value and that this morning's accident was no numbness but an act of the Black Blood. Once again, who could have leaked such things? No one knows about such things except for him, himself and Soul Eater together with the one who looks like him but has a name that ends in 'Evans'.

..except for him, himself and Soul Eater together with the one who looks like him but has a name that ends in 'Evans'.

He slapped his forehead. _Of course. _Of course it would come down to that.

What was left to figure out was the _why_.

"_**But there's no more time to duel on the matter anymore."**_ _At the entrance of the book sanctuary he stood, back against the door frame, body hugged by dark-glowing silk. It raised his monstrous hands and motioned him to lead the way, speaking in a sickly-delighted tone that no one but the Demon Scythe seemed to notice. __**"The lady awaits your arrival, and it is rude to keep the damsel tapping her foot in impatience. Tsk, tsk… Haven't your parents raised you better?"**_

Despite the current situation, he grinned a trademark grin that, no matter how many times Kid twisted on his seat to look behind him, revealed nothing to his confused, golden eyes. Soul took off from his seat and past the son of Death, giving him a sincere 'thank you for the clear up' even though he knew nothing of what was going around in this weird world he lives in. When his clothes disappeared behind the walls, Patty found her voice.

"Kiddo?" She asked pushing both of her meister's sleeves. "As Soul gone cuckoo? 'Cause he was moody when we got here and then started smiling like a maniac!"

Kid could only shake his head and muse over humans and how unreadable they could appear. "I'm sorry to tell you that I honestly don't know better than you do Patty." He blinked at Liz. "Bu I think I just sorted his mind or something as equal."

_`»0«´_

It's a mark Maka possesses.

It's one thing to mention her father when comparing other men, because the main male figure she got as a child was Spirit Albarn and his whorish sways, but if anyone tried to low Soul Eater the blonde would be the first one standing outside the accuser's house with a metal pipe in hand and a kitchen knife in the other.

But when it was a part of his own spouting things he was so sure of, what could she do? How should she react? How idiot of her to have made a scene worthy of a statue of worst-crying-scene-ever. She's no damsel in distress and she believes, with all her heart, that Soul was and still is the one she trusts.

_Yes, but is his name really Soul?_

The girl stretched her legs in front of her and raised her arms in the air, shaking of the laziness that tormented her body even though her mind could take nothing such. Her gaze darted from one place to another, landing on a particular instrument near the wall she sat next to. In one quick breath she brought her knees to her chest and snaked shaky arms around her legs, cursing the soreness that couldn't have come in worst time.

Who cares who he was? What matter is what Soul is and what he proves himself to be in front of the ones he worries about. No idiot would put up with her and her nerdy ways just to escape a dreaded past and become a Death Scythe – if so, there would be enough people to choose from here at DWMA. And Maka is sure that she was not just another strand of grass in the field. In all this time she had had a partner (and she still has), he had been worth her pain, her tears and her blood.

The instrument in her line of vision silently greeted her and her eyes stung.

"Come on!" The technician stubbornly rubbed her eyes. "Stop being such a baby!" Great, now she's talking to herself, reserved for those who lack sanity.

Being upset does not relate to him and how he's been hiding things from her, no, she's more worked up over… over something that clearly makes her cry every time she sets eyes on the piano that began all this, the same beautiful baby grand he played for her all this time ago.

Okay. So she's a little angry after hearing the Imp's mouth talk like he owned the world, can anyone blame her? She's acting like a spoiled brat yet she can't help it. Her head keeps nagging and hurting her psychologically because she _keeps_ _day-dreaming_ of her partner and her walking together while holding hands. Idiot, a complete idiot.

"He's annoying, don't you think?" Her stare was torn away from the black beauty and into a pair of bloody roses. She would have answered him, probably ask him why was he panting and sweating like a walking shower but the words were trapped, locked behind layers of rocks and dirt.

Yep, that would explain the dryness as well as the raspy feeling of sandpaper.

"Can I come in?" He asks, and she nods, but he doesn't move from the music room's door. And then she finally found strength and muttered a rehearsed phrase, a phrase that could explain her worries in a simpler way.

"I think I know why the Little Demon is out."

Soul took in a shaky breath, and nodded.

* * *

><p>Ohhhh… What is it that Maka knows that's getting her panties in a twist?<p>

Thank you so much for all the support until now! Since next chapter will be the last, I hope you've enjoyed things up until now. If you guess what's the main reason behind the plot and why the Imp can appear and disappear only to the eyes of this duo, then cuddos! I'll try to summon invisible, tasteless popcorn in your mouth.

Bye ~


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** I think this is my first time mentioning it but it was a song that I love a lot that gave me the base idea to write this story. Actually, the title 'Stairs' comes from that song in an almost direct way! If you're curious, the name of the song is posted in the end of this here last chapter (even though you all may know it by now).

And so enjoy Stairs and its last chapter! :D

* * *

><p>Chap. 5:<p>

_`»_ Angelic _tunes_ from the Stairway's top _«´_

_`»0«´_

"Look, it's Black Star. BLACK STAR-!"

"Don't go around screaming on the halls Patty!" Kid automatically interrupts his weapon, turning his head from one side to another to survey any disturbance she may have caused. "We don't want to make too much noise!"

"Pa-lease…" The oldest of the Thompsons nested one elbow at the young Shinigami's shoulder and dropped her head on her open palm, her sister doing the same on the other shoulder. "There's no one here Kid, the school's practically empty save from the staff."

"Precisely!" He exclaims, watching from the corner of his eye as Tsubaki approaches with a very grumpy Black Star at her side. "Since it's all so silent, there is no need to shout like a banshee-" Patty giggles at the funny word. "-if your voice has no noise blocking its way."´

Liz sighs. "Way too much Kiddo, you need to loosen up!"

Contradictory to the Demon Gun's request, Death the Kid slowly pushes his black tie upwards and satisfies himself as the other pair arrives next to him so that this silly conversation would come to an end. It's not that he disliked chatting with his weapons, it was just that in this not-so-symmetrical day his mood had been low. Probably because the toilet paper he folded this morning wasn't set in proper triangles, or maybe because that weird, nagging itch behind his ear doesn't go away and he's _sure _that it has something to do with him, his bedroom and the painting set on the middle wall which was left three millimeters by the right.

The thought makes him sick, but Liz and Patty had been so reluctant when he unintentionally wondered out loud if it would be okay to return to the Gallows… that he just didn't do it. And now, he feels like garbage but remains composed, because in five – no – in eight minutes he's going to be at home making damage control.

"What's up?" The blue haired boy greets as he makes his way to the scene, his voice tired and in a drawl, something that doesn't go well when mentioning Black Star.

Patty blinks. "Whut's up with the dead face?" She inquires innocently, and Tsubaki, after making her greeting known as well, pats her meister's head in a proud way and leaves it there to rest.

"He's been helping Professor Sid up until now." She proudly admits with a small smile. At the trio of bewildered faces she explains in a simple way. "Let's just say he got in a little complication today and was set for some hard work, but he took it with his head held high and didn't run away!"

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean!"

"Well, huh-" Tsubaki struggles with words after seeing Black Star's angry pout, his usual hyperactiveness slowly returning to normal. "It's not like you run away from your chores! It's just that there was so much work to do back there and you ended up doing a great job! And Sid was very proud as well! He just, never expected you to do all the chores so willingly!"

"Yeah well, my debt is paid." Black Star crossed his arms with a frown. "And it'll be the last time I'll do that again so he better be grateful!" His face darkened. "Stupid Sid with his work-and-be-proud-as-a-man-! speech. I'll show him who's the man – I'm the MAN, I'm the BIG MAN! And he made me do all the tough stuff!"

It may have been Kid's imagination, but he swears he heard the meister growl in an ominous way.

"A-Anyway" He staggered and changed the topic, not so eager in teasing a murderous Black Star. "have you two seen Soul and Maka?"

The ninja pair traded some silent words, the teen technician demonstrating special concern with wide eyes and mouth parted, but the Dark Arm could only shake her head no. "Sorry, I haven't laid eyes on them since this morning."

"Y-Yep! Me n-neither!" Tsubaki laughed at her partner and his poorly masked concern. He was such a bad liar.

Where could they be? Were Soul and Maka even on the premises or had they left the Academy already? It was hard to tell from his part, even if he possessed Soul Perception the task was particularly hard when it came down to Maka Albarn and her possessed partner. Not that he was a menace, far from it actually! The y kept each other at bay, none of them passed the borders of madness because of their strong bond.

What made it so difficult to track the pair down was the fact that combined – either in resonance or just by being in a close range from one another – the improbable pair of Shibusen would become almost untraceable. Why? Simple: whenever wanted, the Black Blood would serve as a shield and impede external eyes from surveying what both of them didn't want. Like an invisible cloth.

And the invisible cloth was right now over them, and his ashen-blonde friend was making a great job in keeping both souls hidden.

"Woo~ Hoo~ Whut now Kiddo? A'e we goin' home?"

But instead of having her meister answer her, her female role-model came to the rescue. "I don't know if we can do that Patty. Soul and Maka are our friends; we can't just let them be like that. Although…" One quick glance at the thoughtful faces before her was all that it took. "Let's leave."

Black Star was the one who spoke up. "What makes you think they don't need our help?"

Well, why was she so sure anyway? Elisabeth could place her finger on it, but she understood one thing for sure: if she was the one hiding, there would be little to none chance that she would want to be found. This wasn't a hide n' seek game, it was a matter of perceptiveness, if their little group was able to take a hint when it was splashed right on their faces or not.

Her smiling face was all that it took for her twin to understand, and soon Kid joined in as well, followed by a bright Tsubaki. All of them could be mistaken by communicating through telepathy right now, seeming that all their brains were conjuring similar images and reaching to the same conclusions. It was a happy moment, knowing that today could bring amazing future times if it all ended well. It all depended on their next steps.

Black Star however, stood stunned as more and more faces around him curved their lips upward. When he had seen his partner's goofy smile he decided he had had enough.

"The Big Man himself demands a 'clarificuation'!" He screamed, arms waving in the air as to get his much needed daily attention. None of it worked and the other four people started to walk away from him with calm footing. "H-Hey! WAIT!" He dashed in pursue after a moment to recollect himself. "What was that all about!"

"It's 'clarification' not 'clarificuation' Black Star." Kid said in mild amusement.

"Big deal, sue me." When no one seemed to cooperate he restarted. "Awwwwwww c'mon you guys! Stop smiling, it's creeping the living shit out'a me!"

Everyone ignored his cries.

"Tsubaaakiiiiiii"

"Oh alright" The Dark Arm giggled not so innocently and straddled one arm around his in a friendly way. "I'll explain to you along the way."

_`»0«´_

He stood next to the door's frame with a rigid body. It was all tense shoulders, stiff arms and rock-like legs mocking gravity into doing its best to nail him to the ground. The only moving thing would be his eyes, and even they were in disarray at the moment, not knowing very well where to set themselves.

They could stare at the piano, and for a moment it would be fine (just him and his imagination playing lustful tunes) but then all the repressed memories would return with a bang: his family, his brother, all the pressure they put him through just to make sure he didn't miss a note. So his roses couldn't remain there for much longer and he looked away.

Then he would look at the wall that stood before him and sigh in contempt at the familiar yet not too comfortable area, for it still remained the same as when he first came here to be alone. Still full of pictures, still full of happy moments shared between meisters and weapons… And so, he looked away once more.

Soul was such a greedy person, thinking of the best way to get his ass out of trouble-

_-even if it mean sacrificing – no – throwing his body to a certain death with the excuse of serving as a shield when in reality all he wanted was to vanish from the problems that came with life in this world._

Always choosing the path of elimination, gaining more confidence by always keeping close to the ground for leverage, not venturing into the sky like her, whose wings soared every time they resonated. Which came to another thing his eyes could not drink in for too long, because Maka was pale and messy, leaning against the wall next to the piano, legs close to her chest.

"I think I know why the Little Demon is out." She repeated, louder this time as she thought his nod was not enough for an answer.

But even so, he nodded again and glanced away one more time in mental preparation before dropping his shoulders and resting his back by her side. However, he did not sit and he shoved his hands deep into his pockets to make sure they didn't wander around and did something utterly idiotic.

"It's quite simple, in a certain point of view." She continued, completely oblivious to his inner turmoil. "It just that we are both so connected – Oh _God_ there he is again…"

Both teens glanced forward and a _sickening-sweet smile was pasted on the demon's rough features. __**"Now, don't halt because of me!"**__ He urged, pressing both large and red palms to his chest, positioning the black nails over the place his heart should be in fake gratitude. __**"I'm flattered by your notice but please, do continue."**_

Soul rubbed his temples in annoyance. "Just… ignore him, please." He didn't look her way, but moved his head to show that indeed he was listening.

She sighed, but returned to the task at hand. "Our… Resonance is high, which is good! It's very good. But our main goal was to make you the best Death Scythe and-"

"What? It still isn't?"

"No! I mean, yes! I mean, yes-no! Aaargh…" While the weapon raised a brow she slapped her forehead continuously as to get the right words sorted out. "It _is_ our main goal, somewhat, but at the same time it isn't. Because our souls have certain thoughts regarding each other." Her head hid itself between her knees.

There are times and moments in one's life where two roads suddenly appear in the path. Both are balanced, both smell good, both make you feel like you're in fuckin' wonderland, but one of them will lead you to disaster and the other to destruction. This is how he's feeling right now, and no matter what he does, ninety percent chances are filled with Maka never wanting t see his mug again.

Well, might at least make it cool.

His hands unclenched from beneath their holes and he took them out to place them by her side as he shifted to a crouched position. Once again, for the Shiningami-knows-how-many-times-today, her neck was a huge distraction between what he needed to do and what he wanted to do. Both of them could be resolved however and so he partially joined the two horrid roads in one.

At the feeling of lips at her skin, she jumped. "What the-!" Her arms moved frenetically in front of her face and her cheeks were as red as his eyes. "SOUL!"

But he would have none of that.

His strength was greater it seemed, and Soul was actually pleased to find that when the infamous Maka Albarn stood as mere pudding in his hands, he could do anything and everything as long as his fingers remained intertwined behind her, enabling her to wiggle out of his grasp and remain encaged between his arms.

The lips that once were pressed on the back of her neck moved to the skin above her jugular, then up to the space below her jaw and finally set themselves on top of her windpipe. Maka's flesh tasted like honey and smelled like cinnamon, a huge contrast in his opinion as he thought that cold-skinned persons like her would have more of a tasteless flavor, not something as warm as honey and cinnamon. Even after all this time, he knew nothing of his meister.

She was moaning and meowing and groaning in a tone that left place for his imagination to wander and under his mouth the heat was growing warmer by the second. Her palms came in contact with his shoulders as she weakly pushed him away, to no avail of course, and it only worked in getting the grip behind her back stronger, harder to destroy with each passionate kiss. And in the awkward position that they were at the moment, Soul continued to ravish her neck with kisses and licks.

However, Maka's limbs were doing the possible and impossible to set free, all to no avail of course but it would be good to have the blond cooperate in this situation as it was clear that she felt the same way as him. By the time he took a breather and glanced off from her abused neck and to her face, he pondered on his actions. You know, to make damage control:

One – he jumped not so graciously to her neck and remained there no matter what she screamed at him.

Two – she _was_ punching his chest the whole time, he vaguely remembers, but he never took it as a sign to let-go-for-real (because really, it would be normal for her to react that way right?).

Three – his technician began to cry again while the only thing he thought was if biting her skin would hurt too much or if he should be contented with sucking.

"…Maka?" His voice was low and his breath was warm, his red roses spoke passionate phrases that he could not mouth and the arms that were once a steeled grip turned to a softer hug as he rubbed his knuckles up and down her spine.

"You are an idiot and I hate you so much for making me go through this."

His dampen forehead rested upon hers while her petite hands fisted his shirt, her mouth a thin line and her plushy lids forced down to hide her irises. So, alright, he was a brute back there but his intentions were clear as crystal and in no way did he mean to sadden his meister. He had replayed this scene too many times today and in all of them he imagined Maka making a scene.

It was completely necessary.

_The demon stood on the sidelines admiring the show._

"Idiot." She pushed his chest. "Idiot!" She punched his chest. "IDIOT!" She slapped him on the cheek.

Her fingers left marks and the force was enough for him to face his head the other way, her hand still burning where she left her imprint. But he didn't stay with his eyes peeled away from her for too long, Soul mustered the courage and, while remaining in their awkward hug, returned to his half-lidded stare and said nothing. Because what Maka needed the most right now were support and a warm presence to let her abused mind understand that she wasn't in this alone, that she didn't need to go all the way with no one by her side.

"…why me?" Her weak voice muttered after hushing some sobs down.

The boy smiled faintly. "I should be the one asking that. Just look at me, all uncool because of a flat-chested bookworm."

"Not today Soul, not today." She swallowed another shaky sob and buried her forehead in his shoulder. "Dammit why's that Imp still here, that's what I don't get it. We sorted things out and cleared that our connection was big enough for me to share your burden, so why's he still in that corner smiling like a freakin' Cheshire cat?"

"I-It's complicated." He muttered while leaning down to kiss her temples. The action made her shudder, but he remained there. "You trust me, right? You know that I would never hurt you."

She whimpered.

"No, you're right. Don't answer that. Instead, listen to this:" His arms brought her up to her feet and leaded her to the bench beside the baby grand, where he sat and guided the blond to sit in front of him between his legs, so that his arms could continue to hug her frame. "My name's not Eater and yes, in a way you could say that my hands are worth millions even though I disagree with that thought completely."

Leaning against his chest she tensed, but then relaxed again once she felt his hot breath against her damp cheek and the way he trembled slightly, a thing he unconsciously did every time he felt nervous.

"When he appeared" He turned his head to the Little Imp. "it was me hoping to scare you away by telling you things about my past that you didn't know. My soul caught my 'thoughts' and decided that you shouldn't be with me, that you deserved someone better. So the Black Blood took form again and he appeared to you, tried to push you out like the creep he is because I didn't have the guts to tell you this earlier."

"That doesn't answer my question." It really didn't, she was still confused.

He groaned. "Point is, I was wrong Maka. I'm the one who's scared, I _am _greedy. I want the best for you, I really do! You are light, the one who took me in when I was at my lowest and couldn't seem to find a matching wavelength." His grip on her tightened. "And imagining you with someone else makes my blood boil but…" His grip loosened. "If you don't want to be with me in that way, I'll let you go."

She turned to face him and his stoic features. "Are you serious?" She mouthed her disbelief. At his unchanging face, she pulled out a hardcover. "MAKA-CHOP!"

It was all a jumble of moments: the book that she pulled out from nowhere and hid as fast, him falling backwards and hitting the back of his poor head on the piano's keyboard, Maka standing up and rubbing her face wither forearm while muttering not-so-subtle curses and shaking all grogginess away and the Imp cackling like a maniac in the distance while the whole ordeal occurred. By the time he composed himself, the blond meister punched him playfully on the shoulder and crossed her arms protectively.

"After ravishing my neck you talk crap about me choosing someone else? Why the nerve of you!"

"Nerve? What nerve!" He responded back. "I was totally being cool!"

"No you weren't, you were a total swine!" She poked his nose. "Don't go around abusing my skin just for the hell of it and then ask me if I'm okay with it!"

He blinked and watched his technician look away with flushed cheeks and trembling body. Her neck was marked by their previous actions and he snickered at the memory, utterly amused by the way her hands itched to scratch them away. "So, does that mean you're okay with it?"

She gasped. "I didn't mean that!"

"But you thought of it." He leant back and sat down near the piano, wiping invisible dust over one particular key to get his mind distracted. He had a sudden urge to assault her lips now, but he wouldn't force himself more for today.

After a while, she sat down next to him. "We're both big problems with big insecurities aren't we?" She whispered while shifting in her seat to make herself more comfortable. "I guess we match well enough."

"Yeah." He looked at her, and then at the ebonies and ivories, a sweet silence echoing when her voice failed to keep his ears pleased. Mutely as well, her hand skidded over a few keys but pressed none in fear of ruining the mood.

In that moment the repressed memories returned again but, opposite of his previous actions he did not push them away and instead savored them as the past they were. Playing once meant synonyms of crowds expecting a good show and stuck up parents telling how to play what was his soul. Now it meant Maka, how they met and became when she caught him red-handed in this same room, doing something he vowed to never touch once he escaped the demented clutches of his family.

They still had a lot to accomplish, still a lot to climb to reach the level of closeness he would want to get to. But they will reach full light one day, and there won't be Black Blood problems to ruin their link no more. It's like climbing stairs, long, big, and ugly stairs, with the ending being their sole happiness and nothing more. It may be impossible, but that's why they're called dreams and still, he fights to get them.

He relinquished to the moment as he took the time to look at her again. "I love you."

She looked at him but said nothing; instead, she smiled first a worried smile and then a small, happy beam. There stayed a silent agreement.

_`»0«´_

He halted his feet causing the blond beside him to reach an abrupt stop and spin around, turning and bumping against his chest. "Ouf!"

He looked at her with a worried stare and stepped down one stair to look his partner in the eyes, hand in hand to make sure that today was real and indeed it had happened. "Sorry." When Maka tilted her head he ventured further. "I didn't get to tell you anything. You know, where I'm from or what I was-"

She kissed him.

It was quick, it was chaste, it was sweet and it tasted like, well, honey. Her lips were soft in contrast to his gruff ones and she innocently closed her eyes with a grand force, trying in vain to hide her embarrassment. The moment was so quick however, that it left him wanting for more.

He kissed her.

And it was stronger, darer, spicier and his hands left the comfort of hers momentarily in order to entwine in her ashen strands, pulling her face closer. His teeth brushed against her lips and she let out a gasp, allowing him to explore her mouth with his tongue – something that he didn't. It would be a bald move, and he would keep her innocence preserved for a while longer.

When both of them pulled away, breathless and hearts threatening to explode, she hugged him tightly and whispered a shaky whisper in his ear. "I trust you."

It took awhile, but in the end he wrapped his arms around her frame and squeezed her petite frame as firmly as he could, and they stood like that for a while. She had answered his question, even if late, and he took that to his heart.

Man he was such a wuss.

"My chest hurts." She stole him a glance. "Does your hurt too?"

He laughed. "Actually, yes. It's like someone threw an encyclopedia at it." At her incredulous face he curved his lips upper. "Yeah, yeah, my chest hurt too. Aaaaaaand my stomach. Can we go eat, please? I'm starved so don't laugh, I haven't eaten a thing this whole day!"

She laughed, and it was the best music he has ever heard.

* * *

><p>Ta-daaaaaaaaaaaa!<p>

Ok, so it turned out crapier than what I originally thought but at least I posted it before the end of the month!

So, the reason why the Imp kept appearing was because Soul and Maka began a new connection – but because Soul was so confused with his feelings he tried to push Maka away, saying that he was not worth it and unconsciously sending the Demon to do the dirty work. Confusing? Well, any questions just send me a PM and I'll answer them. The ending went kind of badly, but at least it wasn't a fail, right?

Hope you enjoyed and – Oh! By the way, the name of the song is 'Stairway to Heaven' :D

Bye ~ 'Till next time


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